Expressions
by Shelbey
Summary: In retrospection, despite the consequences, Matt determined that taunting Mello was the best idea he’s ever had. [MattxMello] [One Shot] [R&R Please]


**Title**: Expressions

**Author**: Hitachiin Hikaru

**Fandom**: Death Note

**Rating**: "T" for language

**Genre**: Drama/Romance

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any part of Death Note, including characters, cities, towns, scenarios, titles, or anything else about it you can think of. I just want to express my creative intent with this fic.

**Summary**: In retrospection, despite the consequences, Matt determined that taunting Mello was the best idea he's ever had. MattxMello One Shot R&R Please

**A/N**: This is dedicated to my buddy Ian, for being such an annoying motherfucker and bothering me via text messages to get this done, and for acting so much like Matt before he even knew who the hell he was. Enjoy.

Matt wasn't stupid—seriously. He just didn't really care to use the brains gifted to him. He'd rather spend his time playing video games and flirting with the older girls in the orphanage, and occasionally sneaking out to go for a smoke. School didn't really interest him that much, he only kept going because it was something to keep him from being utterly bored at every moment in his life, just because Mello managed to make every day at Wammy's hella more fun than the last. For him, being third made no difference, it's not like he tried or anything to begin with. Just luck of the draw and any random knowledge that got into his head while he was sleeping during lectures.

However, one day Matt was exceedingly bored to death. He didn't feel like playing his PSP or going for a smoke, and none of the girls seemed very pretty today. Tempted to start doing homework rather than sitting here doing nothing, he shifted his eyes lazily to his backpack for a moment, staring at it like it was the bane of his existence. Was he going to drop so low as to do it? Homework was a foreign world to him, not having done any of it in years when he realized his teachers stopped asking for it. They relied on the honor system apparently, which was more than okay with Matt.

So seriously, Matt's not dumb, really. Just lazy and bored, two traits that usually coincided in a recipe for the utmost disaster. Disasters that mostly involved himself and one or more poor, unsuspecting victims, and more often than not had Matt ending up with a bruise or two (if it involved Mello or a particularly irate girl, though weren't they pretty much the same thing?), and a need for a new pair of goggles—or underwear, again, if his so-called best friend had gotten pulled into his monotonous life and random schemes to make it more interesting. Now, his intelligence quotient had nothing to do with how fast he learned or learning when to quit, because one would assume that after several beatings and various new items on his person he would have realized that baiting Mello isn't ideal if he values his life in any way.

However, Matt believed that the only cure for tediousness and nothing to do was finding someone to hang around (usually someone he wanted to, or ended up, messing with), and Mello just seemed to be a rather decent, and easy to access, victim; to Hell with unblemished skin and clean boxers.

Matt walked out of a room that wasn't his, a large bag on his shoulder and a malicious glint in his eye. This had to be the ultimate of death wishes, however if he was doing something he didn't care. Besides, just to see the reaction on Mello's face would be enough to completely fulfill his day, regardless of the imminent pain to his person. Tossing the rather heavy, bulging white bag on a table in the main hallway of the house, he sat down beside it and called loudly to the other children, eager to get this extreme blasphemy underway.

"Hm…" Mello pondered, looking around the male dorm hallways for his devious friend. He hadn't seen the redhead all morning, which meant one of three possible things: a) he'd been up all night playing some new game or other and decided to sleep in, b) bought laced cigarettes accidentally (or purposely, depending what kind of mood he was in) or c) was planning something malevolent and decidedly painful to his newest victim. Mello could deduce that "a" wasn't the reason because he hadn't gotten a new game in weeks, and "b" couldn't either because he would have offered to share—they both would have gone stoned to class together. So he supposed "c" would most likely be the situation, which also meant Matt was severely bored. Which wasn't very surprising.

Wondering what he was planning and why he didn't invite Mello in on it, the blond strode out of the dormitories to the main part of the orphanage, hardly noticing when almost every kid that walked by him was munching on something that would've seemed vaguely familiar had he not been so wrapped up in finding Matt. A chocolate bar hanging from his mouth he stumbled upon a crowd of the kids, where he could barely discern the object he was searching for in the middle of it, obviously selling something. Strangely though, some of the orphans ran away the moment they saw Mello coming, much to his confusion. What the hell was going on? Shoving the younger children out of the way he realized they were eating… "You little fuckers!" he cursed, storming to the center where he saw Matt counting a large wad of bills with a bag—**his** bag—sitting next to him on the ground, completely empty.

Matt glanced up the moment he heard cries and saw some of the smaller populace going flying through the air, landing painfully on some of their peers. He smiled like a maniac, watching as the furious genius in question strode before him, hands on his hips and hair ruffled wildly about his face. This is what made screwing with Mello that much more fun; seeing his enraged, murderous expressions that Matt found all too attractive. He watched silently as Mello's lips curled up into a grimace—lovely, pink colored lips—and as he heard the candy bar snap in his hand under the pressure from his clenched fist. The redhead wondered what Mello was going to do to him for this particular act of evil; perhaps he really would push him down the stairs this time, or into the street during rush hour, or tell Linda that Matt said he thought she was ugly. Consequences were consequences, and the damage from a broken leg or stitches in your skull or a girl's hand slap were practically fleeting in the big picture. Really, Matt should've applied that principle to Mello, too. His expressions were often and extravagant, but only lasted for a period of time. Matt couldn't bottle them up to look at anytime he chose (though wouldn't that be something?)

"Hey, Mello," he greeted him calmly, obviously setting him off even more. He knew exactly what buttons to push to accurately get the reactions he wanted out of Mello. When he wanted the embarrassed, heated side of him he would shoot the fourteen year old a seductive smirk and lightly kiss his neck, or if he wanted the humored side of him Matt would flirt with Near and make his pale cheeks tint ever so slightly, listening to Mello laugh at it, or even when he wanted the severely pissed side of him he would pull a stunt like this. Maybe it wasn't **all** out of boredom when he decided to try and pull one over on Mello, more out of need to get something from him that people didn't normally see. Something only for him—for his eyes alone.

He growled to him, shoving the remaining parts of his chocolate bar into his mouth so his words were rather difficult to make out past the confection, "Matt, I'm gonna kick your bloody arse from here to the middle of next week!" That was fine by him, but Mello wouldn't try if he didn't at least give a little effort, so off he ran, the infuriated blond yelling curses at him like there was no tomorrow. And truthfully, for this, there really wasn't a tomorrow. Tomorrow they would forget all about it just like any other kid, tomorrow Mello will have rounded up a whole new supply of chocolate and this event would never have happened, tomorrow Matt would have to think up a fresh new plan to get a different expression out of him.

In retrospection, despite the consequences, Matt determined that taunting Mello was the best idea he's ever had. Because no matter how angry Mello got with him, he'd always find room in his anger to sneak into Matt's bed and fall asleep there beside him, in each other's arms with their legs tangled together, comfortable in the intimate embrace until morning. Because it seemed, to Matt at least, that Mello liked his expressions too, otherwise he wouldn't let Matt set him off on a furious rampage so often. When Mello did end up catching Matt and kicking his ass, Matt would laugh his head off, because, to him, it just seemed so goddamn funny.


End file.
